


Those Small Hours

by gluedwithgold



Series: But They're Brothers! [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Schmoop, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wakes in the middle of the night and muses about life, love and his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee wincesty ficlet, trying to get my writing flow back. 
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Sam’s eyes took a minute to focus, fuzzy with sleep, but he eventually made out the numbers on the clock on the bedside table. 3:37. Dean was still snoring softly, his arm draped over Sam’s waist, its weight pressing on his bladder. Probably why he woke up in the first place. Sam sighed and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to overtake him again without needing to get up. 

He sighed again at 3:42, the pressure in his bladder edging toward painful. Sam gently wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist, lifting his arm and sliding his body out from under it. Dean snuffled a bit, his fingers grasping at nothing as Sam set his arm back down on the bed. He paused a minute to see if Dean was going to fully wake up, then quietly made his way out of the tiny bedroom and across the hall. 

Standing in front of the sink drying his hands on a ratty towel, Sam stared at his reflection in the mirror, dark and shadowy in the minimal light seeping through the mostly-closed door from the hallway. His hair stuck out in all directions, short for once because Dad made him get it cut just a few weeks ago - took Sam to the barber himself and told the guy how to cut it, and that had been a huge argument on the way home (Sam was fourteen, he should be able to choose his own haircut, dammit). Running his fingers up through the short strands, Sam felt the knot of anger churn in his gut again. Dad would be home in a few days, the relative bliss of a lazy summer vacation would be ripped away, replaced with research and training and barked orders to wake up, go to bed, clean the guns, run two miles. 

Sam knew Dad was doing the best he could. He knew it was all to keep them safe. But he still resented the lifestyle, the constant moving, the constant vigilance, the obsession, the lack of normalcy. He’d overheard Dean trying to convince Dad to keep Sam out of it all one night, promising Dad he’d pick up the slack, that he’d be Dad’s partner, he’d take care of Sammy, just please let him grow up normal, please Dad…. 

Of course it didn’t work, and training that week had been rougher than ever, but Sam still appreciated the effort, even if he couldn’t bring it up. Dean would just call him a girl for thanking him, but he really wanted to. That was Dean, though. Always doing everything he could for Sam, never letting him do anything in return or even say thank you. Sam felt the knot in his stomach transform, turning and swirling until the cold, hard pit had changed into a tremoring warmth that flowed outward, seeping through his veins until he was fully enveloped in the tangible sensation of his brother’s love. 

It was still new, that thing between them that Sam wasn’t sure how to define. It had started just a few months ago, early one morning when Sam had woken up with Dean wrapped around him like usual, only this time he noticed the hard length of Dean’s cock pressed up tight against his hip. He still wasn’t sure what made him think to do it, but Sam had pressed back, small, slow rolls of his hips that rubbed against Dean’s dick and made him wake up with a low moan. The sharp, shocked intake of breath when Dean had become fully aware and realized what was happening had startled Sam still, but it was just a few moments later that Dean was pulling him closer, canting his hips forward and whispering in Sam’s ear - ‘you wanna make me feel good, that it, baby boy?’

Sam had nodded slowly, then started moving again with a little more confidence, sliding his body against Dean’s cock until Dean’s breath hitched and his body stiffened and the warm wet of his brother’s come seeped from his boxers to Sam’s. Later, in the bathroom, Sam had noticed the light, finger-shaped bruise on his hip where Dean had gripped him so tightly when he came, and a warm rush of pride flowed through Sam’s chest and made him smile at his own reflection. 

They’d never talked about it, and Sam was too nervous to bring it up, afraid of breaking the quiet, tentative thread of whatever it was between them - but it kept happening. Mostly it was rubbing against each other in bed, their arms wrapped around one another tightly, almost desperately. A few times Sam had gotten brave and let his hand slink down Dean’s stomach, slipping under the waistband of his boxers to stroke him, watching his beautiful face intently the whole time. Sam relished the whispers he got from doing that, when Dean would pull him close after, his breath fast and hot against his ear as he whispered ‘fuck Sammy, what you do to me….’ 

After a few weeks Dean started reciprocating, and even though Sam didn’t really care, he really did just want to make Dean feel good, he wasn’t about to tell him no. It was awkward at first, Sam’s whole body seemed to flush bright red with embarrassment when Dean’s fingers curled around Sam’s straining cock. But soon enough Sam realized  _ that  _ made Dean feel good too, and he couldn’t be embarrassed about it anymore because it was the only way Sam knew to repay Dean for everything he did for him. And it wasn’t like he didn’t like it, too - it felt good having Dean’s hand stroking up and down his dick, whispering praise in his ear, hot, wet breath saying ‘that’s it Sammy, so good for me baby boy….’

Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts, realizing he’d been standing there in the bathroom for a while and he could just as easily think curled up in bed with his brother, especially now that he’d given himself a boner. He stepped out of the bathroom and across the hall, slipping into the bedroom again. The pale light coming in the window fell across the bed, revealing Dean laying there, still in the same position, his eyes blinking slowly open. 

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean mumbled, shifting slightly as Sam crawled back on the bed. 

“Yep, just had to pee.” Sam wriggled under the covers and turned to face Dean while Dean’s arm wrapped around his back and pulled him close. 

“K. Night, Sammy.” 

“Night, Dean.” 

It only took a minute before Dean was pressing his thigh between Sam’s legs, a few more before they were gripping each other tight. When they were both breathing hard, trembling slightly and latched onto one another in the dark of the bedroom, Sam finally slipped back to sleep. 


End file.
